


melting you like a sugar cube

by annejumps



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cock Worship, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Foreskin Play, Gay Mutant Road Trip, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:31:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: Charles closes his eyes, swallowing. “Am I imagining this?” he wonders aloud, with a huff of laughter.“I don’t think so,” Erik replies, surprised at how rough his voice sounds. “If you are, so am I.”





	melting you like a sugar cube

Erik, still in his three-piece suit which is becoming increasingly hot, is sprawled across one of two double beds in their hotel room, in much the same manner as he’d been in the red velvet room with Angel. The difference is that he’s had a few more martinis and the person he’s watching now is the only other one in the room, Charles, who is undressing, back to him.

Charles must be used to casually undressing in front of boys and men in wholly anodyne and innocent circumstances, what with those prestigious boys’ schools he must have gone to, and must think nothing of it, Erik tells himself. It’s meaningless, Charles is just disrobing but this time in front of Erik rather than in the bathroom like he has on other nights, or in the dark when he thinks Erik is asleep. But Erik is not used to it (what happened in the camps was not casual nudity, not this, and he never went to schools with sports teams and large troops of boys needing to change clothes, no boarding schools), and he is surprised, yet not, by the sudden bolt of lust he feels as Charles, freed of his dress shirt, tugs off his undershirt, revealing a nicely muscled, smooth back. 

Before he can scramble to try and hide his thoughts, Charles unbuckles his belt and lowers his trousers, revealing the swell of his perfect backside and drawing another involuntary spike of aroused interest from Erik. Charles turns his head, brow raised, and here it would come now: _I’m sorry, my friend, but you’ve had one too many; It’s not like that, I’m afraid; I’m sorry if I led you on at all with all the touching and the smiling, my friend, I am; I’m sorry, but no_.

Instead, Charles turns fully and walks over to him, to the side of the bed, expectant, as if responding to a summoning. Erik puts a hand out, either to pull him closer or to stop him, he’s not sure which, and his palm lands on the top of Charles’ hip, fingers touching his skin, the heel of his hand on his underwear. Even from this brief contact, he can feel how smooth and warm Charles’ skin is. His eyes are drawn to the way Charles’ torso expands and contracts with his breathing, the planes and gentle swellings of his abdomen, and finally—with a swallow—to the bulge in his underwear. His hand moves to hover over it, to an inhalation from Charles, who doesn’t move away, and Erik looks up to meet his gaze. Charles has neither moved nor said anything, and there’s something urgent in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything telepathically, however, either. He’s simply waiting. 

Erik lets his hand settle on Charles, and Charles releases that held breath with a shaky exhalation.

Erik squeezes him gently, testing, and Charles closes his eyes, swallowing. “Am I imagining this?” he wonders aloud, with a huff of laughter.

“I don’t think so,” Erik replies, surprised at how rough his voice sounds. “If you are, so am I.” His fingertips can’t help tracing Charles, half-grasping him through the material. Although he wasn’t hard when he’d turned, he’s rapidly becoming so under Erik’s attentions.

“Erik—” Charles starts, and then Erik sits up and with both hands pulls down Charles’ underwear just enough to let his cock spring free, and whatever he was going to say is forgotten by them both.

Jutting out from its nest of light brown curls, Charles’ cock is perfectly suited to him, which is to say it’s beautiful. Erik wraps a hand around it, loosely, and then moves his hand, making Charles shudder and making his foreskin move over the head. 

Swaying slightly on his feet, Charles makes a choked sound that causes Erik to drag his gaze away and up to Charles’ face. Charles is flushed faintly pink now, especially his ears. Erik can sense the iron in his blood as Charles swells in his grasp. 

“Erik, can I sit d—”

He cuts himself off as Erik gets up from the bed and then down on his knees. Right here in front of Charles’ cock, he can observe how Charles’ pink flush is concentrated there. He pulls down Charles’ underwear the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor, and Charles steps out of it, barefoot. Erik is fully dressed and Charles is naked, and one might assume Charles is the vulnerable one here, but one would be wrong.

Erik wraps his hand around Charles’ cock once more, moving it slowly up and down his shaft, assisted by the flexibility of Charles’ plush foreskin. As it’s not something Erik has, he’s rather fascinated with it. Yes, he’s done things with other men with foreskins, but this is _Charles_ , and this is key to his pleasure judging by how he’s shaking and muttering under his breath in little gasps as Erik gently pulls it. It’s a teasing touch, he knows, not nearly firm enough to get Charles off, but he’s hard now and even so has some give to his foreskin, and Erik can’t stop himself from these slow strokes, somewhat mesmerized by the sight of Charles’ cock in his fist with the loose skin covering and uncovering and moving with his hand.

Charles puts a hand on Erik’s head to steady himself; Erik touches the tip of his tongue to the underside of the head, feeling the softness there, and then with his fist draws his foreskin back and slowly glides his tongue all around the exposed head of Charles’ cock, to a helpless-sounding gasp from Charles and a scrabble of fingers in his hair. Moving both hands to frame Charles’ hips, Erik takes him in, again slowly, lips tight. Where Charles’ skin is dry he tastes faintly of salt, and where he’s leaking his taste is richer; he pulses on Erik’s tongue, and in answer Erik’s cock strains against his own clothing. He’s not thinking much about his own cock right now; although he’s fully clothed and getting warmer, he has goosebumps at having Charles like this, all of his attention on Erik, as if his very nerve endings are Erik’s to do with as he pleases. 

He takes Charles in until his nose is nudging his belly, his nest of hair; he inhales the faint salt scent of his skin and the hint of hotel room soap. Charles groans in a low, lost-sounding way at the feel of Erik’s throat around him, but a few more rounds of tonguing him and then taking him deep and Erik learns soon enough that what he really likes is that motion of Erik’s tongue around the head of his cock, and on his foreskin. It makes him wet, and Erik laps him up, thinking, _Charles, this is Charles’ taste_. He hasn’t even kissed him, except like this. 

He keeps doing that, alternates between sliding his tongue over the smooth softness of the head of Charles’ cock and taking him in deep and drawing off. Charles’ hands soon find a restless rhythm pulling at his hair; he pictures himself mussed, hair wild, mouth wet and red from this, but fully dressed. Charles groans, and he wonders if he’s picturing Charles’ thoughts, instead. On that note, he wonders why Charles isn’t talking to him telepathically, but then realizes Charles must be too flustered to gather himself to do so, which would make sense, given that he’s barely able to speak aloud.

“Erik,” Charles gasps, and Erik hums around him, making him shudder. “I’m— Soon— Don’t think you have to—”

The immediacy of the idea of making Charles come makes him shudder too, and he works his mouth over him faster. 

Charles comes with a choked cry that Erik immediately commits to memory, and as Charles tries to do the gentlemanly thing and lean away, pull out, Erik pulls his hips closer and swallows him down, almost greedily.

Releasing a softening Charles from his mouth, Erik can’t help licking him clean, to savor all he’s been allowed in case he never has this chance again. 

Finally, with a groan Charles has to pull away, oversensitive. He stares down at Erik in amazement, looking as beautiful as Erik has seen him and may never see him again: flushed, lips and eyes dark, breathing hard. Erik lets his hands drop to his sides.

Charles tips his chin up, staring at him still, and then sinks as gracefully as can be expected to the floor, to kiss him. It’s a gentle, almost chaste pressing of lips. Charles is still trying to catch his breath.

_Unbuckle your belt and undo your flies for me_ , Charles tells him, and Erik does, the tip of Charles’ tongue tracing the seam of his lips. As Erik takes in a breath, Charles slides his tongue in, and smoothly works a hand into his opened trousers, into his underwear to take hold of him, firm. With Charles in his mouth, on his tongue, and with a hand wrapped around his cock, it’s the work of but a moment for him to come, all over Charles’ fingers. 

Charles presses kisses to his jaw, his neck above his collar, before sitting back on his heels and looking at him searchingly. “I’ve been waiting for that,” he says finally, voice low.

Erik nods briefly. “I wasn’t sure if—” Trailing off, he shrugs. He, too, is a little out of breath.

Charles smiles. “Did you miss me calling you ‘darling’ earlier this evening?” he murmurs. “Have you missed every glance I’ve given you and how I’ve touched you?”

Erik shakes his head. 

“Rest assured,” Charles says, and leans in to kiss him again.


End file.
